


City of Mud, Sweat and Blood

by Astarity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Deathly Hallows, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 13:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astarity/pseuds/Astarity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many dimensions besides our own. The Deathly Hallows don't come from ours. It only makes sense that they want to bring their new master home. Poor Harry, he never knew what he was getting into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	City of Mud, Sweat and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Harry Potter.   
> This story may get updated less quickly than on my fanfiction account, but I will try my best to keep up my work.   
> Thanks luvs,  
> Astarity*

Daybreak. It had been a mere hour after the falling of the most dangerous Dark lord of all time.  
So it would make sense that everyone was celebrating... Well, almost everyone.

Harry Potter wasn't.

He was staring at a rock in his hand. In his defense, it was a very pretty rock, a deep black color with little red veins all over it. Anyone would stare at that rock. It was perfectly natural to do so.  
The rock was perfectly unnatural.  
'Why me?'  
He kept asking the rock.  
He had thrown that damned rock off into the distance countless times, only to have it end up at his feet or in his pocket, like a stray dog you feed once and it keeps coming back for more.  
Harry shook his head, then tossed it once more. Then he ran. It was the most ridiculous statement that could have crossed his mind.

He was running from a rock.  
Yep, he was crazy.

And as he ran, the comforting weight if his wand rested against his arm.

...His wand had been snapped.

He drew out the stick, recognizing the lumps of wood spaced along it, and it's bone white, gleaming luster. It was following him too.  
He had broken it in half not 20 minutes ago, then thrown the pieces into a gorge.  
'How did this keep happening?!'

Then he tripped.

As he tripped, the wand slipped from his slim fingers and fell onto the silvery cloak that had been mysteriously placed in his path. The rock had caught up.

And as the legendary items all congregated into a pile below Harry, he had just the amount of time to have one last coherent thought before darkness fell on him.

'Bugger.'

The smell of dirt filled Harry's nose as he regained consciousness. It was gross to say the least, and Harry really did not want to be blowing chunks of dirt out of his nostrils thank you very much.  
So he did the clever thing.  
He tried to sit up.  
Not so clever.  
"Ouch! Dammit!"  
Harry was really eloquent when awakening.  
And really aware of his surroundings, which was why he slammed his head into a pipe that happened to be hanging above him.  
He really had the best luck, didn't he?

He dropped back down with a huff, hitting his head again in the process, this time on the floor.

Yes, he was just that clever.

Sitting up more slowly this time, actually taking in his surroundings, Harry realized his location.

He was underground.  
In a dirt chamber that apparently had plumbing.

There happened to be a door at the other end of the chamber.  
He could get out and see what lay behind that door.  
He could find out where he was.  
Where his friends were.  
Who were his friends?  
...  
Who was he again?


End file.
